The Quest for Gillian’s Heart

by The Quest for Gillian’s Heart (lit)

  "Each day he wakes must bring him great joy to know he has been granted another day to gaze upon your beauty."

  Visions of his body pressed to hers, his too-white smile before her face, shuddered through Gillian. "My husband is only a shout away."

  "I mean you no harm."

  "Nevertheless, I think I will join him."

  "In there?"

  The amusement in his tone drew her head his way. "Of course...in there."

  "Do you know what place this is?"

  Afraid to admit she did not, Gillian hiked her nose in the air. "My husband has business here."

  Amir laughed aloud. "What man does not? Madam, this is a brothel."

  Gillian paled. The revelation was such a shock, there was no way she could have kept the horror from her face. As the world spinned before her, she watched Amir’s amusement change to shame.

  "What is going on here?" Andor demanded from behind her. "I thought I made it clear that you were not to bother my wife."

  Gillian turned so slowly she wondered if she were really moving. "How could you do this? After all you said. A brothel?"

  Andor reached for her. "Gillian, you do not understand."

  With reflexes as fast as any viper, she cracked her palm across his face. "I understand plenty." She wadded her shift in her fists and ran off, leaving Andor to stare dumbly in her wake.

  It was several seconds more before he had recovered his surprise enough to follow. Each stride he took stoked his anger until, by the time he had reached their tent, he was in a full blown rage. With a roar born deep in his chest, he ripped the flap open.

  By rights he should punish her, put her back in her place, and reassert his authority as leader. If a wife did not respect her husband, why should others?

  But to see her huddled on their furs overcome with sobs, to recall all that had happened to them - how could he raise a hand to her? She was his love, his life. To hurt her, no matter what society dictated, made him no better than Leif. He was a leader, responsible for the welfare of others. It was time he started behaving as such. She was to be his partner, his equal, and she too deserved the respect that went with that role. If he asserted his authority over her, what other man would follow her decrees in his absence?

  Drawing in a calming breath, he tied the tent flaps closed and sat cross-legged on the furs before her.

  "I gave you my word last night. I bared my heart and soul to you. I ask for time and this is how you give it? I swore to you...."

  Gillian snapped her head up, her eyes flashing with fire. "You went to a whore while you had me sit outside."

  Andor kept his gaze steady. "I like being falsely accused no more than you...I sought no whore. You are the only woman I want." He lifted her chin on the pads of his fingers.

  "Last night after you had fallen asleep, Seamus came to me with a problem. It seems he went to that brothel to...uh...pass the time. The proprietor set him up with a young lady. ‘Twas only when Seamus was alone with her that he realized she was barely out of girlhood...twelve years of age. Seamus, being the type of man he is, spirited her away and brought her here. We knew it would not be long before someone discovered her, and we feared her owner would have Seamus hanged. Father, Björn, and I went to the brothel to negotiate a price for her. ‘Twas higher than we expected...she is still a virgin. We gave him half the payment last night, and I took the remainder to him today."

  Gillian pulled back, blinking in surprise. "Why did you not tell me of this last eve?"

  "As I said...you were asleep."

  "Where might she be now?"

  "With Mother."

  Gillian wiped her cheeks clear with the heel of her hand. "You could have told me this morn."

  "Aye, that I could. And if I had, you would have wanted to stay with Mother to care for the girl. I did not tell you because I was being selfish. I wanted to have the day with you alone. I should never have had you sit outside while I paid for the girl. But I could not bear the thought of having to fight Mother for your attention again. Gillian, I love you. I wanted to be with you."

  He swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat. "I want to be with you now. To hold you as close as two can be. To feel the softness and warmth of your body surround me. You...no one else...just you."

  The words were a caress against Gillian’s heart. Her pulse leaped in anticipation. She tried to think of where she might be in her cycle, but Andor’s nearness drove all sense of time away. Gillian desperately want this moment. With a soft sigh, she slid her arms around his neck.

  A muffled groan was his response. He captured her mouth and drew her down onto the pallet of furs.

  He dusted the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Gillian shivered and closed her eyes on a sigh.

  "By the gods, you are a beautiful woman," he said in a rush of breath. "Forgive me, love. I cannot wait."

  He tugged open the drawstring of his breeches. When his heaviness fell against her, Gillian yanked her skirts to her waist.

  "Nor can I," she whispered.

  His breathing was rough and ragged, matching her own. She lay quivering beneath him, waiting for that instant when his body would claim hers. Instead, he dipped lower dancing feathery kisses across the flat expanse of her belly while his fingers parted her.

  Gillian opened herself wide, beckoning him on with an involuntary twitch of her hips.

  A soft groan drifted to her ears as he accepted the invitation. Gillian bit back a cry and raked her fingers through his hair.

  His exploration was slow, complete. No valley within her rose petal softness was left untouched. And when she spilled over the top, all she wanted was him to possess her.

  Andor crawled up her body, raining kisses wherever he could. He captured her lips, flicking the edges before sealing them with his own. Then he pierced himself into her, hard.

  Gillian arched against him, her cries swallowed by his kiss. He beat his body into hers with a hunger she had not known he could possess. And she wanted more.

  Her body answered, urging him on with wild abandon. She felt him tense. His lips left her and burrowed into her neck while shudder after shudder engulfed him.

  And when the moment passed, he was still deep within and still as hard as when they had begun.

  Andor drew in a deep breath and renewed the pace.

  Together they rocked, limbs entwined, lips hungrily possessive until both were sated and had no more to give. Then they lay beneath the furs, curled together. Their clothing lay discarded in the corner of the tent. Whispered endearments were the only words spoken in the interlude of after love. It was only after they had dozed and awakened that Gillian dared broach the sudden fear within her.

  "We should not have done that."

  "Why? Did you not enjoy it?"

  She snuggled into the crook of his arm. "Oh, aye, that I did...but what if we made a child?"

  Andor expelled a long sigh.

  "Why did you not tell me of the special time in a woman’s month?"

  His eyebrows inched together. "What special time? When you bleed?"

  "No, no, no," she said softly. "The fertile time."

  "Oh...that. Well, because Father did not hold with it. He thought it merely a tale, but was content to let Mother believe what she wanted."

  "Do you believe your father?"

  "Yes...because...." He sighed again before continuing. "Because once Tove asked me to give her a child. I was with her every night and no child came."

  Gillian tamped down the twinge of jealousy this news created.

  Andor leaned up on his elbow. "You are not the only one who grieved when Gwynneth died. The only greater pain I can imagine is losing you."

  Gillian’s eyes pooled. Andor chucked her under the chin. "No tears. We must speak of this...I have my fears, too, but we must decide what we will do about them. One of my greatest pleasures is to be with you this way. To love you. To hold you. To be one with you. But I cannot do so if each time there are tears and worries afte
rward. I will not put us through that."

  "But your mother’s system...."

  He put his fingers over her lips. "And what if Mother is wrong? What of the worry and guilt then? A decision must be made...by you."

  "And you."

  "I have made my decision...To be with you and raise any children we create."

  "And if we lose them?"

  "Then we bear the grief together as other couples have. As Mother and Father have...Unless you have decided you are unsure of us."

  Gillian closed her eyes. He knew the answer as well as she. All she had needed was to know he loved her. Now that she had that and he her love, she could never leave him. It would be like leaving part of herself behind.

  "I love you. You know that. Even with all our squabbles...I am willing to take the chance."

  Andor traced her jaw with his finger. "Ah...now, if only you meant it."

  Her eyes flashed open to deny it. His gentle smile stopped her.

  "Would you like to try Mother’s way?"

  The troubled look faded. "Do you mean it?"

  "Aye."

  "Oh, Andor!" She threw her arms around his neck, knocking his elbow out from under him. "I do love you. It will work. I know."

  Andor wouldn’t puncture her happiness with his doubts. Even though he did not like to leave their love-making solely in her hands, it was preferable to not being with her at all. As they dressed to leave their tent, he decided it really was a good idea after all. The tension between them was gone. Gillian’s manner was as it had been before Gwynneth’s death - bright and affectionate. He wondered how long it would last when Gillian discovered his mother’s system did not work.

  Gillian stood at the rail, letting the breeze toss her hair about as Andor guided the ship out to sea. It was a great day...a wondrous day...despite the monthly cramps that plagued her. That had amused Andor when she told him. Of course, he still didn’t believe in Fjola’s ideas of conception. He hadn’t said anything, but Gillian could tell by the way he had said, "I suppose now we begin our count."

  It was no matter. He would soon see. The hardest part was going to be saying no when that time came. It was bad enough they were restricted at the beginning of her cycle, now the middle would be forbidden, too. According to Fjola that would also be the time when she would most want her man. It was her body’s way of reacting to the need to create new life. It would be up to Gillian to fight those urges.

  A solution to this dilemma came to her that morning from a surprising source. As they struck camp, Amir arrived with apologies for any trouble he had caused and a business proposition. Intrigued with the seal skin bag Gillian had left behind when she fled the brothel, he wished to trade his rugs and spices for bags she would make.

  There was a bit of haggling between Andor and Amir until an equitable trade was agreed upon. Already Andor’s ship was carrying Amir’s goods to Iceland. Gillian had until they reached that destination to complete one hundred bags. Björn would carry them to Amir by return trip. Gillian would indeed be a busy lady.

  She caught a glimpse of Fjola at the bow of Sven’s ship. Her young charge was by her side, her strawberry-blonde hair swirling about her head.

  Gillian turned away. The less contact she had with the girl, the better. Each time she looked at her, she saw Gwynneth as she might have looked at that age. It was a reminder she could have done without.

  She settled comfortably before her tent to lose her thoughts in her work. The girl and Fjola were on the other ship. There was no reason why she should dwell on the presence of the young stranger. What she hadn’t counted on was Andor bringing attention to her rudeness. It happened suddenly that evening - as she was curled in his arms about to fall asleep.

  "Why did you avoid Mother and Bridget this morning?"

  Involuntarily, her muscles tensed. "I had not realized I had done so." His silence told her the lie was unsuccessful. Finally, she relented. "I see Gwynneth when I look at the girl."

  "So you push the girl aside as if she did not exist." His tone was gently scolding.

  Gillian rolled away from him. Andor followed, wrapping his arm around her to keep her from going any farther.

  "Each time you see a child ‘tis only natural to think of what might have been. But you cannot ignore the fact that other children exist. What will you do about Erik or any others Freyda and Rollo may have? How can you expect Erik to understand that his loving aunt no longer wishes to have anything more to do with him?"

  It was a perspective Gillian hadn’t considered and one she wished she didn’t have to think about now.

  Andor had thought it would do her good to realize how she was behaving. Instead, Gillian sank into a quiet depression. Other than cutting out his tongue, he knew of no way to keep from speaking.

  It was hard to know what was right or wrong. At least she did not keep to herself as she had before their reconciliation. During the day she would smile his way from time to time. At night, when her body’s schedule permitted, she was warm and affectionate. It was in those unguarded moments that he sensed she really wasn’t with them - her mind was far away.

  He had hopes that being home with Freyda would pull her spirits back up. And, indeed, when that day arrived it seemed his prayers had been answered. There was so much laughter, so many hugs, even a few tears of happiness over the family’s partial reunion, that it was impossible not to get caught up in the excitement. Gillian shared in the tales, laughing with the others as everyone tried to talk at once.

  "What a wonderful surprise!" Freyda exclaimed, hugging her mother once more. "But you must let me tell my news first."

  His mother held her at arm’s length. "Well...tell us...as if I cannot guess."

  Freyda laughed. "Mother, you have such a good eye."

  "Well, I do not," Björn said. "Tell us."

  Freyda linked her arm through Rollo’s. Their love was mirrored in the tender look they exchanged.

  "We are to have a child."

  There were congratulations and more laughter, but Andor could not join in, for the joy had faded from Gillian’s face as she backed away from the group. When he hurried to catch up to her, she waved him away.

  "I am fine. I just want a little walk to stretch my legs. I will not be far."

  An echo of her own speech came from young Bridget. "Can I go with you?"

  "No," Gillian snapped, and strode away.

  Andor put an arm around the girl’s shoulders to ease her injured feelings. "Gillian did not mean to be curt. She is having a difficult time getting over the loss of our child."

  Wide, blue eyes looked up at him, and Andor was struck with a vision of how Gillian might have looked at that age. No wonder she saw Gwynneth in this girl.

  "I have lost all my kin. We might have a bit of grief to share. Gaedhil to Gaedhil you know."

  Andor smiled. "Later, perhaps. After Gillian has some time to herself."

  He returned to the family, expecting Bridget to follow. Instead, she waited a few minutes then went in search of Gillian. Andor let her go. This was something Gillian had to face on her own.

  There was no call to take it out on the girl, Gillian’s conscience scolded. She did nothing.

  She whacked a tree branch aside and marched on to her destination. Apologies later would have to set things right. For now all she wanted was the peace and solitude of the hot spring.

  What in the world had made her think she could live without a child around? She could no more feel ambivalent about Freyda’s children than she would her own. If something happened to them, it would still hurt. She was a fool to have forgotten how dear Erik was to her heart. And the little one on the way? She pictured a newborn suckling at Freyda’s breast and felt an emptiness well up inside. The only cure, she knew, would be to set aside her fears and bear a child of her own.

  "But I cannot!" she screamed to the treetops, and ran the last few yards to the hot spring.

  She paused only long enough to ensure she was alone, then st
ripped away her clothes and slid into the steamy warmth. Her strong strokes took her back and forth across the water until a peaceful exhaustion settled in. Then she leaned against the rocky side to soak for awhile longer. A snapped twig sent her dashing for the cover of deeper water.

  Bridget eased forward. "I did not mean to startle you."

  Gillian willed her heart to return to normal and tried to hide her irritation over the invasion. After all, she did owe the girl an apology.

  Bridget sat on a nearby rock. "You looked like a water sprite. All graceful and the like."

  So, she is Gaedhil, too. "Andor taught me to swim when we first arrived."

  "A fine man, to be sure. So Fjola swears. Handsome, too. I am sorry to hear of the loss of your babe."

  Gillian glided back to her niche at the side, refusing to acknowledge Bridget’s sympathy.

  "I know how you must be feeling," she went on. "I lost all my kin. ‘Twas highwaymen. Kilt both my brothers, my parents. Took my sister and me away. Once we got to that town, I never saw her again. When I first spied you, I thought...Well, you look a lot like Meg, ‘tis all."

  Gillian looked up to see Bridget softly crying. The young girl’s grief touched her as nothing else had been able to. Gillian had lost her baby. This girl had lost everyone dear to her.

  "I am sorry that you had to be torn from your family. ‘Tis good though Seamus found you. You will be happy with Andor’s kin."

  Bridget nodded and brushed away tears.

  "There’s a lass, now," Gillian cooed. "Come...I will teach you to be a water sprite like me."

  Together they shared a giggle, and Bridget joined her.

  Although not as skilled a teacher as Andor, Bridget’s willingness to learn made Gillian effective enough. Soon they were gliding in tandem to and fro across the spring, sharing confidences and laughter. It was medicine Gillian’s heart needed.

  "Well, witch, I see you have a young apprentice."

  Gillian spun around at the sound of Leif’s voice. He’d grown gaunt over these last months. His clothes were tattered, his black hair and beard scraggly. But the evil in his dark eyes was the same. He moved closer, and Gillian pushed Bridget behind her.